


when all is lost, all is found

by brownbbybear



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen - Anderson-Lopez & Lopez/Lee, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brownbbybear/pseuds/brownbbybear
Summary: elphaba's living comfortably in brooklyn, the usual self loathing and boring day job worked into her everyday routine. her entire world is upended when her best friend anna introduces her to elsa, the reclusive, quiet figure skater who's talents are well known across the state of new york. elphaba can't seem to stay away from her, and whatever she's hiding only piques elphaba's interest more. when their universes collide, they discover they have more in common than they thought. can elphaba and elsa learn to love themselves as well as each other, even when fear, insecurity and secrecy are all they've known?
Relationships: Elsa (Disney)/Elphaba Thropp
Kudos: 1





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> so i started this fic as a fun little idea in 2013 on tumblr. this is one of my favorite pairings and i dont see it often so i decided to develop it into a full fledged fic and I've been working on it ever since!! if there's any plotholes or things that don't make sense, forgive me, i did as much research on things as i could!! im very proud of this story even if it's a little corny and long as hell. I hope you enjoy and fall in love with this ship just as much as i have, enjoy dear readers! <333

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i started this fic as a fun little idea in 2013 on tumblr. this is one of my favorite pairings and i dont see it often so i decided to develop it into a full fledged fic and i've been working on it ever since!! if there's any plotholes or things that don't make sense, forgive me, i did as much research on things as i could!! im very proud of this story even if it's a little corny and long as hell. also; the writing will get more complex and the chapters will grow longer as you read, since i wrote this story through the years. I hope you enjoy and fall in love with this ship just as much as i have, enjoy dear readers! <333

“Anna, remind me why you dragged me into this.”

“Shhh!” Anna jabs a finger in Elphaba’s face, seriousness written on her face in way that’s almost comical. “I dragged–” she puts air quotes around the word, “–you into this because its fun. Besides, I think you’ll really like Elsa. She’s the best out here.”

Elphaba narrows her eyes, unamused. "Is that right?"

“That's right,” Anna gives a grin of delight and an assured nod. “You'll see."

Elphaba’s about to make some sarcastic remark when the lights dim, as Elsa’s name is announced over the stadium. The people’s voices rise up into a deafening roar, and Elphaba strains her eyes to adjust in the darkness.

All at once, the stadium drops to a hush as a solemn piano tune begins, and a lone figure glides out onto the ice, her posture as straight as that of a queen. Her hair shines nearly white against the spotlight following her, and on her sleek body is a sparkling blue dress, seeming to be made from a thin sheet of ice itself. Elphaba watches, entranced, as Elsa moves along the ice like its a part of her, like she was born with it inside of her. The ice seems to glow as Elsa skates gracefully, her slender, pale arms extending as the chorus bellows out over the crowd.

_Let it go, let it go_

_Can’t hold it back anymore_

Elsa jumps, spins in midair, and lands perfectly. Elphaba leans forward in her chair, just a little, eyes following Elsa’s every move, every twirl and twist of her hands, every glide and pivot. The song builds up to the bridge, and Elsa’s twirling, flipping and dancing, even. She’s smiling as the crescendo of the song comes up, and the crowd cheers her on.

_Let it go, let it go_

_And I’ll rise like the break of dawn!_

With a graceful leap, Elsa spins into a triple lutz and lands effortlessly on the ice, one leg lifted up as the other graces the white ice. She rockets backward, pale flash of messy bangs flying about her slender face like the folds of a flag. Elphaba absentmindedly makes a noise, some sort of sigh of awe and disbelief, like she had just seen magic. She's never seen a girl like this before. 

Elsa moves sedately to the center of the rink just as the song ends, and with a cute tilt of her head she bows and curtsies, dress glittering in the brilliant spotlight. The crowd is roaring as Elsa waves, exists politely, and Elphaba stares after her.

“Sooo…” Anna starts, directing a smug look towards her friend. “Did you enjoy being dragged into this?”

Elphaba’s face warms and she’s quick to cover it. "I guess it wasn't awful," She murmurs.

“We're definitely coming back again," Anna decides, and Elphaba can hear the amused smile ghosting across her lips. “Besides, I can already tell Elsa is your favorite.”

“I don't have a favorite,” Elphaba deadpans, uncovering her face and fighting against the surge of blood threatening to surface at her cheeks. “Can we go?”

Anna sighs contentedly. “Yeah, alright, grumpypants.” They stand together. “Elsa was the only reason I brought you here anyway. The others aren’t nearly as good. I mean, they’re good, but not Elsa good. It's about time I introduced you to her.”

“Tell me about it,” Elphaba mutters, and she looks out onto the white sea of ice where Elsa was and blinks in thought. Maybe coming to watch some stupid skating show wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know where oz is located geographically on world map okay hhhh just know it exists in this universe . let's just pretend the whole shit that happened in the wicked universe (book/musical) didn't take place and elphaba graduated from shiz u and moved to ny okay bye

Elphaba doesn’t even like coffee.

Anna, however, does, and it’s for that reason that Elphaba has to sit in the corner of the crowded little New York city coffee shop and wait for the redhead to hurry up and order. After staggering over to the little table with more donuts, bagels, and coffee then her arms can handle, Anna drops her contents onto the white surface of the table and grins.

“Hi,” Is all she says at first, in that tone of ever present optimism that Elphaba can’t tell wether she loathes or secretly admires.

“Hello,” Elphaba says back, eyeing one of Anna’s pink drinks with suspicion and mild disgust. “I didn’t realize we’d be having a Thanksgiving feast this morning.”

Anna tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry,” she breathes out nervously, lips twitching up in an apologetic smile. “I’m really hungry. The food at the show last night sucked.”

Elphaba gives a half smile, blinking in a slow, thoughtful manner. “Doesn’t it always?”

Ever since the night she saw Elsa skate for the first time last month, Elphaba’s been attending the ice skating shows with Anna.

“She's the reason the shows are so successful,” Anna gushed to Elphaba one night. “The other skaters are good, but it's obvious that everybody shows up for her. That’s how good she is.”

Of course, Elphaba tried to play it cool, like she totally wasn’t attending the shows as an excuse to see Elsa. She totally was.

These figure skating shows become a Brooklyn favorite to everyone who called the city home. It also functioned as a tourist attraction, with parents and their children flocking to see each skater perform their individual routines and then rally up for a big number at the end. 

“So, I was thinking–”

Elphaba chuckles dryly, taking a bagel from the brown paper bag. “That’s dangerous.”

Anna slaps her playfully, narrowing her eyes. “As I was saying, I was thinking maybe Kristoff, and I should throw a party.”

Elphaba furrows her eyebrows, staring concentratedly at Anna with confusion written on her face. “A party?” She says, like its a foreign word. “What for?”

“Well, you know Christmas is coming up and–”

The bells above the coffee shop door jingle with the entrance of a new customer, and Elphaba swears the temperature drops.

It’s Elsa. She walks into the coffee shop, almost like she’s shy, afraid, and she looks tiny. The curve of her hips shown in her ice skating dress is flattened by a hanging blue sweater, draped over her body like a blanket. A pair of black leggings shows slightly from the curtain of her knitted sweater, bringing out the stark paleness of her skin. On the bridge of her nose is a pair of thickly rimmed glasses, bulbous and almost clumsy looking against the bright blue of her eyes. And her hair– her hair is a mess of wild platinum blonde bangs, complete with an ironically neat bun tied low on her head. She's ten times more attractive than Elphaba could have ever imagined her to be.

Elphaba watches her with wary eyes, breathing slow, as if Elsa could sense every intake of breath.

Anna’s quiet, too quiet, and when Elsa turns around after getting her drink, Anna waves her over as casual as can be. Elphaba’s heart quickens as Elsa offers a kind smile and approaches their table. The universe offers her zero time to take in that the gorgeous girl she's taken a liking too is actually approaching her.

Elsa positions her self daintily between Elphaba and Anna, quiet as a ghost.

Elphaba can’t help but stare, brown eyes scanning over the faint smattering of freckles on Elsa’s pale cheeks and the long curl of her lashes. An exchange of words gathers around her ears like muffled background noise, but she misses them in the midst of her staring.

Suddenly, Elsa and Anna are looking at her, and Elphaba loses all train of thought.

Then she remembers. She’s green. She’s green, and there’s a pretty girl staring at her and probably trying not to show her visible disgust. Wonderful.

Elphaba scowls unintentionally, embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry?”

“I was just wondering,” Elsa’s voice is as soft as snow, the kind that you find fluttering down across the gray sheet of a winter morning sky. “Where are you from?”

“The Emerald City, a long ways from here,” Elphaba’s eyes flicker down, trying to betray the nervousness in her voice. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“ _No_ , I have,” Elsa sounds breathless all of a sudden, and Elphaba raises a curious eyebrow at her. “I’ve seen a few articles about it. I had to dig for them, but still. It looks so interesting…”

Elphaba finds herself smiling just a little, watching Elsa’s face glow with pure and unbridled interest. “It’s quite a strange place. Funny that you’d take interest in it. No one I’ve met really ever has.”

“Well, I like to read about hidden, far away places, sometimes,” Elsa averts her eyes shyly, twisting her braid in a timid kind of way. “I know it's sounds kind of childish.”

Elphaba smiles wider. “No, not at all. I actually find that quite–” Attractive? Adorable? “–admirable.” That works.

Elsa beams and laughs a little. Anna worms her way back into the conversation with some snarky remark in Elphaba's ear that makes her groan internally. Something along the lines of “I hope I’m not interrupting your date…”

There’s much to learn about the ice skater. Elsa Arendelle is her full name. Elsa’s parents grew up in Norway and moved to America after they married, and Elsa was born. As a young girl, Elsa was wise beyond her years, and destined to skate from the minute she pulled them on at age six. For Elsa, ice skating became an escape from the world around her, and a way to express her feelings. She entered many competitions growing up, and many found her to be an exceptional skater for her age. However, from the time she was eighteen until a year ago at twenty one, Elsa had put up her impending ice skating career to take a break, to get away from skating for a little while.

The three of them talk further, Elphaba learns that it was near the end of her three year break that Elsa was hired to skate in the shows that are now so beloved by Brooklyn. She tells her story with quiet humility, like she's rehearsed it, written it, and told it to the masses a thousand times before. She speaks with an eloquence and grace, a soft sort of shyness.

But there are subtle things about Elsa that are... off, and only Elphaba seems to notice. Elsa would avoid any further questions or conversations surrounding her parents, and when such things would arise, she’d shift her eyes downward and twist her gloved hands in her lap. She’d shy away from all physical contact, which Anna loved to initiate. She’d brush off anything having to do with love or relationships with a quick dismissive remark, her lips stretching into a tight and uncomfortable smile. It was kind of like a game of chess for Elphaba, trying to get to know Elsa beyond the surface. _It's probably because I'm a stranger,_ She thinks. _I'll give it some time._

As Elphaba and Elsa have a conversation on the completely unrealistic idea of a talking snowman, Anna presses her palms to the chilled glass of the window behind her and breathes out in awe.

“Look, it’s snowing!”

Elphaba blinks and cranes her neck to see out of the foggy window and lo and behold, the first snow of the season is fluttering down from the sky in swift, small flurries. “My, my,” She says, all breath and no voice.

Elsa’s chair screeches unpleasantly, ripping through the calm atmosphere of the coffee shop and turning heads. Her eyes dart back and forth, and she fiddles with her hands. “I… I should be going,” Her voice is unsteady, hushed.

“…It was nice meeting you,” Elphaba says slowly, watching as Elsa clutches her hands to her chest. “Perhaps we’ll talk again, sometime.”

“Of course,” Elsa nods, offering a weak smile. Her eyes flick up to the window, soft snow gathering up in thick, fluffy lumps along the busy streets. “Goodbye, Anna. Goodbye…”

“Elphaba.”

“Right, Elphaba. Bye.”

She hurries out, hugging her arms to her stomach. Elphaba looks on as Elsa disappears down the sidewalk, soft and glowing in the flurries of snow.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't know anything about professional ice skating outside of the olympics but i did my best :>

“Done!” Anna huffs out in satisfaction, standing back to admire her work.

The Christmas lights dangle from outside the little house, the winter chill knocking them against the building like an attempt to bring them to life. They’re hung a bit lopsidedly, a trademark of Anna’s well-meaning but clumsy skill. 

“What do you think?” She asks, her breath puffing out in gentle, freezing wisps. She keeps her eyes on the house front lights, seemingly awed by her own ability to do such a simple task.

“It’s… wonderful, babe,” Kristoff lies, rubbing the back of his neck. “You did an awesome job.”

Elphaba shoots him a knowing look from the other side of Anna, shaking her head almost comically. He manages back a watery smile and a guilty shrug, unable to lie to his girlfriend. 

“Aren’t you guys excited?” Anna sighs, hooking her arms around their necks and roughly tugging them both up beside her without knowing her own strength. “This is just going to be the best Christmas party ever!”

“You say that every year,” Kristoff and Elphaba deadpan.

“Yeah,” Anna admits, unaffected. “But this year I can just feel it!”

“Can you also feel your cookies burning?” Elphaba murmurs, and right on cue the smoke alarm lets out its shrill and jarring screeches from within the house. 

“Oh, shit!” Anna hisses, and in seconds she’s stomping ungracefully through piles of snow towards the open front door. 

“What would we do without you?” Kristoff scoffs, grinning at Elphaba as they both trudge toward the house.

“Heaven knows,” she gives the tiniest of smiles, jamming her hands into her coat pockets. The heavy coat swings off her back like a cape, slowing her stride and emphasizing each crunch of snow under her boots.

Elphaba has never been one for parties of any kind. She always felt out of place, like a puzzle piece forced into a space that didn’t fit. The wave of endless chatter and noise, noise, noise, always there. And people, people dancing and talking and moving so smoothly like nothing was wrong. Like they weren’t green and stark against the backwash of every wall and thing around them. The rythym of a party was one Elphaba could never seem to catch. 

A beat that everyone could dance to but her.

She shakes the thoughts away with the flurries on her coat, hanging them up and hoping they’d melt away like feeble little nothings.

Inside, the house is cozy and warm yellow, old Christmas tunes playing faintly from a radio nearby. Decorations crowd up every space possible, and the scent of pine wafts throughout the area. It is no doubt Anna and Kristoff’s place, the perfect mixture of outdoor musk mixed with girlish decoration and charm.

“Alright,” Anna sighs, beaming even as Elphaba devours an entirely burnt cookie beside her. “I think everything is all set! People should be arriving any minute now.”

Elphaba’s stomach turns in unmistakable dread. She tries to swallow it down, but the lingering char of burnt cookie does nothing to help. Alcohol is what she needs.

“Heyyy,” Anna’s tone warns, blocking the space between Elphaba and an unopened bottle of tequila. “Guests get it first, missy. Let’s not have you drunk before this party even starts.”

Groaning in frustration, Elphaba sits down in a chair in a far off corner of the room. Unsurprisingly, she remains there as the guests gradually pour in and the party begins.

She can’t tell which she hates more: a dark, sweaty college party, or a bright, small-talk Christmas party. Both involve things she hates, dancing and meaningless chatter. And, both of these things are taking place at this party. 

At first, she’s afraid to move for fear of being noticed, but her need for a drink stirs her enough to get up. Elphaba sighs. It seems that downing a few shots of tequila was going to be the most eventful part of her night.

Or so she thought.

Elphaba sputters into the shot glass, nearly choking as she spots a familiar face enter the apartment. It’s Elsa, and Anna and Kristoff greet her at the door like it's nothing at all.

An uncomfortable blush maneuvers its way onto Elphaba’s face like an accidental paint stroke. Once they’ve moved from the doorway, Elphaba slithers out from the crowd and into the frigid driveway, white snow glittering with Anna’s crooked rainbow of lights.

“Why did I even bother coming here?” She mutters, the words fogging out delicately from her mouth. The desire for alcohol dies away in her chest, and she pours out the drink onto the snow, watching it congeal into brown slush.

She ends up walking around the entire block, surveying the twinkling lights on each house. It was moments alone like these where Elphaba couldn’t tell if she was lonely or content. The holidays might give others a feeling of warmth and nostalgia, but for Elphaba nothing registers in her heart with the incoming season. It was a time where father would unload countless presents to her sister Nessarose, and give Elphaba barely anything, if anything at all. It was a time of togetherness, reveling in the closeness of family and friends. It was almost like her twisted version of Valentine’s Day, disliking the season for lack of what it was supposed to give her.

She makes it around to the tiny driveway once again, closing her eyes as if to silently resist the bitter sting of winter’s touch. She debates wether or not to go back inside, but only for a brief few moments.

“Um,” Elsa starts gently, and Elphaba turns to be met with bright blue irises blinking back at her. Elphaba’s knees nearly turn to jelly. She swallows, straightens her back in an attempt to feign a cool demeanor.

“Hi… again,” Elsa breathes out the words more than she actually speaks them, a timid, toothy smile spreading across her mouth to greet Elphaba’s rigid stare. She jerks her thumb back toward the apartment. “Anna sent me to make sure you’re not out here wasted.”

Elphaba ducks her head down to look at her booted feet and lets out a small sneer through her nose. “Of course she did.” She gestures to herself. “Well, unfortunately for her, right now I’m boringly sober.”

Elsa laughs quietly, jamming her hands into the pockets of her jacket. There’s a pause, like she’s thinking, and then her voice floats out of mouth like a whispering ghost.

“I didn’t quite remember your name at the coffee shop last week,” She murmurs, looking the other in the eyes with a sheepish, lopsided grin. “I guess I was in a bit of a hurry.”

“Elphaba,” says the girl, blinking into Elsa’s gaze despite the difficulty not to blush just at the sight of her. “Not a name that rolls of the tongue anyways.”

Elsa hums in amusement. “It’s not bad.” With every word she says her breath fogs out white like small clouds. “At least you don’t have a Norwegian last name.”

Elphaba chuckles a little. “I suppose that’s true.” 

The noise of the party pulses out a steady, muffled _thump-thump_ from the house, and it matches the blood roaring in her ears and the fierce pounding of her heart. She shuffles awkwardly, clears her throat. “I hope I don’t sound rude but…you don’t seem like a party person. How’d you end up here?”

She sees Elsa smile briefly, the pearly whites of her teeth peeking out for a moment before they’re gone. “Don’t worry, you’re right.” She fixes her gaze on the woods beyond them. “Anna and I were friends in high school. She tries to bring me out of my shell and try new things, meet new people.” She shakes her head fondly. “I love her, but parties are not my sort of thing. Still alot of times, I'm too nice to turn her down.”

Elphaba agrees, “She does the same with me, too,” And when Elsa looks at her with eyebrows raised in amusement, her heart leaps. “Always dragging me to the latest party, or play, or show-”

Elsa groans. “Please don’t tell me she takes you to watch figure skating,” And when Elphaba nods, Elsa smacks a hand over her eyes in embarrassment and the green girl grins. “She’s always taking her friends to watch me! She’s like a proud mother, I swear-”

And they continue sharing their experiences with Anna. Elphaba almost forgets the feverish beating of her heart, that she’s talking with one of the most breathtaking girls she’s ever seen. They’re so engaged in their storytelling that they don’t even notice the pale sheet of snow slowly falling from the night sky. 

Elphaba pauses in one of her tales as the first few blips of snow caresses her face. She shivers and when she turns, Elsa’s blinking with an unreadable expression at the white stuff. It collects like a crown of white beads on top of her head, and fuzzes the outline of her jacket. 

One flurry of snow settles on the bridge of Elsa’s nose like a stark white freckle amongst the faint cluster of brown ones. Out of pure instinct, Elphaba forgets herself, forgets her feelings and slowly, gently thumbs across Elsa’s nose to swipe it away. 

Elphaba’s heart plunges into her stomach when Elsa jerks away and turns the color of a ripe tomato, her eyes going wide. Elphaba winces, scolding herself. _She doesn’t like to be touched, you moron! And by strangers especially!_

Before Elphaba can stammer out some lame, weak ass apology, Elsa wraps her arms around herself, shoulders hunching up to the red of her ears, and says, “Um! I-I should probably… head back inside…!”

“W-Wait!”

She’s hurries into the warmth of the house in seconds. Elphaba blinks, digging her arms into her sleeves to combat the now furious rush of snow. After a few moments, she smiles to herself, and on the way home she pretends like she and Elsa are laughing together again.


	4. four

Morning light filters through the white curtains like water, illuminating the room in an almost garish hue. Elsa knits her eyebrows together in irritation, eyes squeezing shut to block out the orange light from behind her eyelids. It's a moment before she sighs, sniffles and rouses, bangs a mop of wild platinum atop her head. Olaf, her young new puppy, cheerfully greets her with kissess, and Elsa laughs. She stretches her joints to life, drowsily plodding out of bed and into the bathroom to shower.

Her apartment is small, but homely, accented with all white and baby blue. It's so clean it looks empty, and Elsa has a simple taste depsite her income. A small, white Christmas tree sits beside the television, scarcely decorated save for a few ornaments.

Once she's showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast, Elsa swipes her keys off the counter and leaves for practice.

The winter air nips at her heels as Elsa closes the car door and begins to drive.

The Brooklyn air is crisp, and as Elsa drives she feels it caress her face through a crack in the window. The city is big, always bustling and ever in motion. The buildings soar up and brush the sky. It's a stark contrast to the Norway Elsa knew.

Although she was born in the US, Elsa always found it important to visit her roots. Norway was calm, a peaceful, hilly land. In the winter, the fjords would glisten with a sheen of ice pulled over them like a blanket. They beckoned to be skated on. Snow would flutter down in quiet flurries, and the scent of pine wafted throughout the chilly air. On the best nights, the sky would awaken with the aurora borealis, and Elsa would skate smoothly in time with the gentle slithering flourish of eclectic pinks and greens. Norway was a tranquil, homely dream.

She's jarred out of her thoughts as the car behind her honks most violently, a green light staring down into her face with patience. Elsa rolls her foot down onto the gas pedal and sighs. New York city was so beautiful at times, but also so fast. The snow lumped on the side of the road is greyed slush, the daily cars crunching over it endlessly.

But being the coveted city of success that it is, Elsa stays, having been provided with a well paying career doing what she loves. Despite the spotlight, the pressure to succeed, to be a role model, a leader. Elsa stays.

She often finds herself wondering why her parents chose Brooklyn. She was no stranger to isolation and a quiet life, so New York seems like one big push against her comfort zone, landmines at every corner of the city threatening to disrupt her tranquil lifestyle. To spill her deepest secrets.

That's why she stays inside. She holes herself up in that little apartment, content with her dog and her little Christmas tree and shitty black coffee. Hardly emerging save for going to work, Elsa feels like a myth, like a fabled creature who only emerges once every blue moon. She prefers to live this way, even likes it. At least she thinks she does.

Pulling up to the arena, Elsa parks, the little car murmuring to rest as she turns the engine off. Her boots click against the sidewalk, and she attempts a smile at the sight of her coach Hans standing sentinel at the door.

"Cutting it close," he mutters through gritted teeth, glancing down at his watch impatiently.

Elsa winces. "I made it on time though. I'll practice extra hard today, I promise."

"I sure hope you do," Hans pushes the back door open and swiftly enters with Elsa following behind him. He always walked too briskly. "As the star of this upcoming Christmas special, I expect only the best from you."

"I know," Elsa wrings cold her hands together, porcelain knuckles bunching up under the skin there like white pebbles.

When he turns to glance at her, his eyebrows furrow reddish-brown with seriousness. Hans was quite possibly the best skater Elsa knew. Everything about him was sharp and precise, right down to his spins and glides. He rarely ever made mistakes, and expected Elsa to follow in tow with the same perfection. He was her foil, quick and merciless like fire. Sharp tone and green, fox-like eyes.

He leaves her once she enters the lockeroom, and she sighs. She's got a long day ahead of her. Her weeks is usually comprised of not only training, but spin classes, yoga. Hans pushes her to take these extra steps in hopes one day she'll be prepared to compete in the Olympics, an idea that looms over her mind any time they step out on the ice together. Elsa's lucky that today unlike most days, she didn't have to wake up at some ungodly hour of the morning. Rebuilding a skating career from the ground up after a three year break is a decision that Elsa often finds herself partially regretting.

One she pulls her skates on, Elsa glides out, her reflection staring back at her the crystalline white surface. The other skaters and their coaches are bunched up in the middle of the rink like geese.

"There's the main event," One trainer bellows out and gestures to her, and the other skaters turn to look at her. "You know in this play, we can't have a swan court without our swan queen!"

Red splashes up into Elsa's cheeks and she shrinks into the worn white jacket already engulfing her. She likes the idea of playing a swan, but their queen? The idea is amusing, absurd and intimidating all at once. When she was cast for the role, Elsa felt embarrassment bubble its way up into her chest. No part of her wants to act like royalty, like she's above everyone else even if it is just a role. Skating alone, Elsa is used to the spotlight and can usually feign a calm demeanor. But in a group, clearly defined as the lead character and expected to be flawless in her performance, the pressure weighs on her chest like a block of cememt.

The practice is long, and by the end when Elsa's untying her laces, she utterly dreads the remainder of the day.

"Good work today," Hans praises, though his face is devoid of any real pride. His red hair looks nearly orange under the arena lights. "Do even better tomorrow. Got it?"

He grins, but it's not in the slightest bit humorous or comforting. Elsa swallows. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

The rest of the day is as equally exhausting. Elsa drives home as the sun sets, the sky painting her face all kinds of pinks, yellows and oranges.

Once parked and up the stairs, Elsa twists her key into the door and jimmies it open. Olaf greets her excitedly, and she's petting him when her stomach groans a plea for food. Elsa groans along with it when she sees there's nothing in her fridge but a half eaten salad. She picks at it, munching dissapointedly.

Stopping at the grocery store is the last thing she wants to do right now, especially with the risk of being seen. There are some things, of course, that she must leave the apartment to do, with much reluctance. One might think being semi famous has it perks, what with the constant cameras, autographs to sign, and fans recognizing you at every corner. But these are all things Elsa detests, so much so that when she goes out, its with shades on, a beanie shoved down onto her head, and a sweater swamping her body. She'll entertain the attention if confronted with it, but she'd rather avoid being swamped altogether.

The salad is a sad lump of leaves on her plate and Elsa frowns. She looks at the clock and decides its not too late to call Anna. The phone rings once, twice, and Elsa almost hangs up when Anna answers.

"Hello?" Anna's voice is as perky as ever, but she seems winded.

"Anna," Elsa clutches the phone, skin between her eyebrows bunching together in concern as a crash sounds on the other end. "Um, can you grab my groceries? I'll send you the list like always."

Another crash of what sounds like blocks sounds over the line, followed by a child-like scream.

"Oh, Elsa I- Hey, don't you touch that!" Anna's voice goes distant for a moment, before she presses the phone near her again. "I want to, but Kristoff and I are babysitting for a friend tonight."

"Oh," is all Elsa can say.

"M-Maybe," Anna grunts, clearly busy with a reckeless child, "Someone else can do it..."

Elsa blinks, bewildered. "Who?"


	5. five

"You want me to do _what?_ "

Anna sighs over the phone, exasperated. "Just grab her groceries and bring them to her! I'll send you the list and her address."

"Will she pay me back?" Elphaba mutters, phone jammed between her ear and her shoulder as she pulls a coat on.

"Of course! I do it for her all the time."

Elphaba frowns, "Why doesn't she do it herself?"

"Why are you asking so many questions?" Anna counters, irritation getting the best of her. She immediately regrets it, and sighs again. "Sorry. This toddler is a bit of a handful. Elsa... she's kind of a shut in. She doesn't really go out that much. The two times you've seen her are the only two times I've gotten her out of her apartment this whole year. I'm trying to get her to make new friends- like you, but it's like pulling teeth."

Elphaba shakes her head. "That's a shame. But at least she isn't green." 

Elphaba isn't particularly too fond of going out either, for obvious reasons. But she's used to it, the stares, the not so subtle glances, chubby fingers of a child pointing and a mother's ushering the child away. New Yorkers, especially the Brooklyn kind, are not the friendliest people in the country. And she of all people knows this best.

"Hey," Anna chides. "Just be grateful you guys live in the same apartment complex."

"We do?" Elphaba's voice becomes ghost like, either with terror or wonder, she isn't sure. The apartments in question aren't by any means bad, but definitely well below Elsa's higher pay grade. Why she'd want to live in such a tucked away place is a mystery yet to be solved. 

"..Yes?" Anna's voice upturns like its a question, like it should be obvious. 

"Don't act like I should know. You said yourself she never comes out." Elphaba grabs her keys and starts for the door.

"Whatever," Anna half laughs. "It's not too long of a list, so you'll be done before you know it! Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Bye!"

She hangs up and Elphaba sighs, stepping out of her apartment and getting hit at once with the stinging chill of winter. It's not her favorite season, but it isn't the worst. For Elphaba, winter can either be dreary and unforgiving, or soft and beautiful.

She's waiting at the bus stop when the familiar groan of the bus rounds the corner. The bus is a black square bug on wheels, the yellow headlights slicing through the black evening like little lemon rinds. Its an old bus, and inside the air smells stale, used up. It hisses to a stop, and Elphaba climbs on as the doors swing open. She shuffles to the very back with her head down, the garish lighting exposing her verdant skin. Luckily, the bus holds only a handful of people, most of which look too exhausted to acknowledge her.

The bus coughs and rattles back into drive. The city's mostly dark, illuminated with specks of light here and there. The lights that do shine, billboards, neon signs, and apartment lights, are as bright as day. People are always out there, stalking in the night like foxes. Under the lights and in the street they look like small, black dolls. Like shadows come alive.

The bus lurches to a stop near the grocery store, and Elphaba gets off and walks from there. It's snowing, the white stuff flittering down like confetti and melting at once.

The supermarket sign glows obnoxiously green, neon green, and it lights up the whole parking lot with a sheen of glossy emerald. Elphaba glares at it, like it's mocking her. Inside the store is no better. The lights shine down a sterile yellow, causing her to squint. The store is mostly empty, the few people within it meandering the aisles like zombies. Some weird 80's pop song plays distantly overhead. It's like some kind of fever dream.

Elsa's list is not too long, so Elphaba fills the basket with the groceries and proceeds to checkout. Its mostly healthy stuff, she notices, as the scanner beeps each item. And, luckily, the cost was surprisingly low. Elphaba gives an impressed nod at the receipt.

She rides the bus back to the complex, the snow falling heavier now, in blurry white sheets. She grips the grocery bag and scans the address Anna had sent her. Elsa's only a floor below her, meaning Elphaba rides the elevator past her floor nearly every day for work. The green girl feels anxiety squirm heatedly in the pit of her stomach. Something about Elsa is so mysterious, intriguing and beautiful at once, Elphaba is both awestruck and wary of her.

Outside Elsa's door, cold radiates out like a giant freezer. It rests there, like a gentle fog creeping out of the door's frame. Its a coldness unlike anything outside, strangely; it feels artificial, like someone tried to replicate the feeling of cold, crammed it into a jar, and now its leaking out of the apartment like a failed science experiment.

Elphaba knocks warily.

A beat. There's no reply.

Unsettled, Elphaba knocks again, voice wobbling in on itself. "Uh... Elsa? It's Elphaba. I have your groceries."

After another stagnant silence, Elphaba starts to think Anna gave her the wrong address. She's about to rummage through her coat pockets for her phone when two locks behind the door rustle and click free. The door opens, but a third lock snaps between them, giving a limited view of Elsa and the apartment behind her.

Elsa's eyes are the first thing Elphaba notices. They cut through the dim hallway light like diamonds, glittering. A loose strand of white-blonde dangles between them, and her lips part slightly as she spots the bag in Elphaba's hand.

"Oh, thank you.." She says, eyes flickering up to Elphaba's face. Her voice is quiet. "You can leave them by the door."

Elphaba's awestruck. Everytime she sees Elsa, its like the first time. 

"Are you sure? I-I can bring them inside.." Her words don't even make sense to her when she says them, her brain having short circuited. She's talking just to talk, to keep a conversation afloat when there really isnt one. 

"N-no," Elsa says quickly, voice quivering at that. She clears her throat, sniffles. "..No, its fine. Here." 

She stuffs her hand through the crack in the door, holding crisp dollar bills and a few cents. "It's should match the price on the receipt," She murmurs. 

Elphaba accepts the money, jamming into her coat pocket. "Thank you."

Elsa nods, a tight smile straining across her face. "Have a good night," she says almost ghostly soft, and the door shuts abruptly. The locks are done up, one and two, clicking neatly into place just as quickly as they came undone.

Elphaba frowns, lingering at the door for no reason at all. After a pause, she sets the grocery bag down in front of the door and trudges upstairs to her apartment. 

She's confused, flustered, and disappointed all at once. Why does Elsa always run away after each of their interactions? Is she afraid? Why doesn't she ever come out of her apartment?

Elphaba is utterly in awe of Elsa. Each time they meet, the interaction is as equally mysterious as the one before. Elsa is a puzzle, a code begging to be cracked. Elphaba has never found herself so transfixed on another person before. It shows.

The next day, and the next, Elphaba finds herself taking the stairs rather than the elevator, just to pass Elsa's door. Just to feel the bluster of cold that whispers past. Not once does Elsa emerge, or even take a ride on the elevator, nor do they cross paths on the stairways. Anna wasn't kidding.

It's eventually a pathetic fruitless attempt and kindling any kind of friendship, and Elphaba feels a kind of anger, resentment grow in her heart. Certainly by no means were they close, but Elphaba felt sure that they had clicked both times that they had met, a quiet understanding of each other that she had been sure would lead to an acquaintanceship at the very least. Had she made the whole thing up? She pauses outside Elsa's door one day to smoke, but she's since dropped the habit. Instead she stares at Elsa's white door, quiet bitterness boiling in her chest.

Not only does she begin to resent Elsa, but herself, as if she didn't already.

_Why were you stupid enough to believe she'd want to befriend you? Look at you. It's obvious that's she's disgusted by you, and this isnt the first time you thought something was going well only to be abruptly ghosted.This is your fault. Just forget about her._

And so Elphaba does. She tries. She takes the elevator. She stops going to the skating shows with Anna altogether. She never gets Elsa's groceries again. She tries to go back to her old life, before becoming infatuated with Elsa.

Little does she know this task would be impossible.


	6. six

A few days later, Elphaba’s reading a book in her apartment, the sky through her window a grey sheet with oncoming snow. Beside the ever present honking of cars down below, there’s no sound but the flip of a page. Elphaba likes the quiet. It allows her to do as she pleases, be in control of her space.

Engrossed in the book, she turns another page. But the silence she was enjoying is disturbed as her phone vibrates with an incoming call.

She groans, reaches for it. The contact name makes her freeze. After a pause and more vibrating, Elphaba accepts the call without knowing why.

She doesn’t speak.

“Uh… Hello?”

“Fiyero,” Elphaba breathes. It had been so long, she’s not sure what to feel. Relief. Regret. Both?

“Elphaba,” He mirrors, and she can hear him smiling over the line. He laughs to himself in disbelief, and the sound breaks her heart, brings her back. “Hey... It’s been forever.”

“It has,” She smiles fondly, draping her legs over the arm of the sofa to gaze out into the city.

“Years.”

“Yeah,” He sighs, voice lilted with wistfullness. “That’s why I’m calling, actually. I wanted to see you.”

“Oh, please. You know nothing’s ever going on with me.”

He scoffs, jeering. “Something’s _always_ going on with you. Besides, I’m boarding a plane to Brooklyn and I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Ugh,” Elphaba feigns a groan of annoyance. “Now, I _have_ to come get you.”

He laughs again. “You seem absolutely thrilled.”

Elphaba sighs, a grin making its way onto her face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Well, I missed you, too.”

She pauses a brief moment at that, her heart flipping obnoxiously in her chest like a pancake.

She clears her throat. “Text me when you touch down. I may or may not feel like showing up, so be prepared to spend the night there if necessary.”

“Still a pain in the ass, huh?” Fiyero jokes, grinning. “Trust me, it won’t take me more than two seconds to find you.”

Elphaba shakes her head. He’s one of the only people she’ll let joke about her skin. He really hadn’t changed much. “See you later.”

“Oz, I hope so,” He chuckles. “Bye.”

She hangs up -reluctantly- and looks out into the plunging city below, her gaze soft. It was nice of him to call, to visit. She wonders if he really misses her, why he does. After a painful breakup due to her moving, it’s crazy that he still cares about her, wants to see her. Maybe his company will take her mind of things, help her relax.

A few hours later, when the night has painted itself a murky bruise of black and blue, Elphaba arrives at the airport. The lights surrounding the city cause the stars to hide, so there’s nothing but a blanket of dark and the white blotch of a moon. The airport is insanely busy, people rushing and reuniting for the upcoming holidays. Elphaba realizes Christmas is only a mere two weeks away, and she’s almost fascinated with how little it mattered to her.

She scans the airport lobby, hands nervously fidgeting behind her back. Suddenly, she spots him, a tall, slightly tan boy with broad shoulders and smooth, light brown hair. Fiyero grins his signature toothy grin, blue eyes twinkling with joy. All the memories smack her at once like an oncoming subway car and in seconds they’re hugging, his strong arms securing her like tree branches. He smells just like she remembers, like pine and maple. Elphaba sighs into his hold.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” He breathes, pulling away to look at her. “Isn’t this crazy? It’s been what, like four years?”

He doesn’t look much different. Aside from a sharper jaw, wider shoulders, and some stubble, he’s still got that boyish charm.

“Yeah, I think it has,” She says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You still as look as obnoxious as I recall.”

“I think you mean I still look as hot,” He shoots back, and he unintentionally proves his point by hoisting up one of his bags under his taut arms. Elphaba swallows.

“Yes, of course that’s what I meant,” She rolls her eyes, pulling his other bag over her shoulder. “Now, hurry up. I’m starving.”

They take the subway their way back to the apartment complex, grabbing Chinese on the way.

Elphaba’s arm is aching with the bag as she struggles to open the apartment door. As soon as it’s open, the bag drops to the floor with a thump.

“Just leave your stuff at the door,” she commands, fingers flurrying to open the boxes of takeout. “Also, two bags and a giant suitcase? Seems like more than just a visit’s worth of stuff.”

Fiyero scoffs, setting his other bag and the suitcase down by the door and joining her at the table. “Surely you remember how poor my packing skills were. You had to do it all for me.”

“How could I forget?” She groans, stuffing a piece of chicken in her mouth and not thinking anything more of his suspiciously large amount of luggage. “Folding clothes should not be that hard for anyone.”

He smiles at her fondly, boxes of steaming food untouched before him. Elphaba blinks up at him, chopsticks pausing mid-twist. “Eat,” She murmurs, burning under his gaze. “I know you’re hungry.”

He simply nods, stupid smile still stuck to his face. He opens up the box, stirs it with the chopsticks, the steam slithering out of its confinement. “So, how’s life in the big apple?”

“It's alright,” She admits. “It’s crazy, too... Reminds me of the Emerald City.”

He hums, taking a bite. “Looks crazy. The holidays must be insane here.” She nods. “Are you working?” He continues.

“I'm a library assistant. It’s nice and quiet there, and sometimes on breaks I get to read.”

“You and your books.” He shakes his head. “You’ve gotta get out more.”

She fakes offense. “I _try!_ I’m in New York city, that’s out enough for me.”

He grins again, and reaches out to tenderly grab her hand. He strokes the green knuckles there under a calloused thumb, and Elphaba looks up at him. “I missed you, Elphaba.” He says, voice feather soft.

She works her mouth into a disbelieving scowl. “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Fiyero squeezes her hand, eyes widening with sincerity. “Oz doesn’t feel the same without you.”

Elphaba laughs wryly, gently pulling her hand away and standing to throw out her empty box.

“You’re right. It’s probably better without me, isn’t it?”

“Hey, stop it,” He rises too, his food less than halfway done. She sits on the couch, face turned away, and he joins her. “Look at me.”

She sighs, turning her face to him, and irritation is clear on her features. Save for one lamp and the kitchen light opposite them, the apartment is dark, and her skin looks nearly brown in the dimness.

“I’m not going to let you beat yourself up while I’m here, okay? As long as you’re gone, Oz won’t feel the same to me. I mean that.”

The moonlight from the window behind her washes over his face, and his eyes are big and blue. They remind her of Elsa, and she turns away again in embarrassment. “Why did you come here?”

He blinks at her once and then hangs his head, his mouth a sheepish corkscrew. Elphaba looks at him and frowns, concerned. “What?”

He gives her a smile, a nervous one, and rubs the back of his neck. “I...I really just wanted to give us a try again.”

Knots tighten themselves inside Elphaba’s stomach as Fiyero leans in and kisses her, his hand cradling her cheek. It’s been a long time, and she shudders under his warm, unexpected touch. He feels just as warm and gentle as the years before, except this is now. And now, this shouldn’t be happening.

She pulls away, uncertainty swimming in the honey brown of her eyes. “Fiyero, w-wait. I don’t know if this is a good idea...”

“We can make it work now that I'm here with you,” He smooths a gentle hand through her hair. “I just want to see where this goes. I could stay with you and maybe we could get our own place when I find some honest work.”

Elphaba works her hands together like squirmy frogs. If she had known he felt this way and made such plans, ideally she would've like to talk it out earlier. But here he is, still the impulsive, sort of reckless boy she had once known. “I don’t know.”

He takes those anxious hands in his. “Can we try? Please. Just one more time.”

Elphaba remembers when they were young, kids stupidly in love with each other. It’s a fuzzy, pleasant memory she keeps tucked away in the back of her mind. It feels like it was ages ago. And now, he’s here, trying to see if he should move away from Oz for her? She’s undoubtedly still a little attracted to him, but she’s unsure if it’s enough to go out with him again. Still, she feels guilt snake in the pit of her belly. He was nothing but good to her, the best partner she could ask for. It’d be cruel of her to say no.

Elphaba hesitantly rolls her cheek into his palm, hoping she doesn’t regret the choice later. Maybe, just maybe, this could be good for her. Maybe she forget about Elsa this way. “..Alright,” She says.

He lets out a breath of relief, like he’s been holding it all four years, and smiles. “Thank you. I really think this could be good for us.”

Elphaba half smiles back, and reaches up to grasp his hand against her jaw. This will be interesting.

With each passing day, Fiyero settles himself further into her apartment. During the day she’s gone to work and he’s looking for it, and in the evenings she comes home to his best attempts at a home cooked meal.

“I was just trying to be romantic,” He says, when one night she comes home to the shrill cry of the smoke alarm and some blackened, crusted-over thing smoking and smouldering horribly in the oven.

“Well stop,” She jeers, throwing the burnt thing in the trash. “I’ll be the cook here.”

On days when the snow engulfs the city in white, Elphaba reads, Fiyero snuggled up under the covers beside her. He’s always with her, even when he’s really not. Always waiting for her to come back for work, always calling or texting. Sometimes she finds his excessive loyalty just the tiniest bit irritating. But she scolds herself, tells herself not to be ungrateful and appreciate what she has. It’s what she wants after all, isn’t it?

Two weeks pass, and the city starts to glow green and red as Christmas draws near. Old carols can be heard echoing through the streets distantly, and those horse drawn carriages go _clop-clop_ over the roads below. It gets colder and colder, and in the night, Fiyero wraps his arms around her, tight and warm. Moments like those, Elphaba enjoys. He smells like home, like memories. He’s her safety, her comfort. He never changes, and he’s strong and protective, yet so soft and gentle. He’s what nostalgia might feel like if it were a person.

Christmas Eve afternoon, gray smudges itself against her window, flurries almost invisibly fluttering their way past. Elphaba wakes from her nap, eyes groggily opening and following each flurry till it's out of sight. She yawns. Fiyero’s got his beefy arms locked around her. Unable to move, she groans, unintentionally waking him.

He sniffles, yawns and stretches his arms out wide. He blinks up at the ceiling, then turns to her.

“Hey. How did you sleep?”

She shrugs, rubbing her nose. “Fine, aside from you strangling me with your bear arms.”

He snorts, rising and leaning on one elbow to look down at her. “You’re always such an asshole when you wake up. And I know you love my bear arms.”

She sneers, tilting her head sideways to gaze at him with a raised eyebrow. He gazes at her lovingly, leaning in to tease his lips against hers. She shivers under him, tentative cold fingers wandering up to brace against his chest.

Elphaba’s phone rings and interrupts the moment. She pulls away, reaching over to press the phone to her ear.

“Yes?”

“Could you sound anymore excited to hear from me?” Anna snickers over the line, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“I just woke up from a nap,” Elphaba explains, frowning.

“Well! Now that you’re awake, I’m trusting that you and Fiyero haven’t forgotten to show up to my _amazing_ Christmas Eve party tonight?”

“Who throws two Christmas parties in one month?” Elphaba mutters.

Anna sighs, grinning all the while. “I’m taking that as a yes. Don’t be late!”

“We’ll try,” Elphaba affirms, yawning again.

As night creeps its way over gray skies, Elphaba pulls a black sweater over herself, preparing for the party. In the corner of her apartment sits a midsize Christmas tree. Fiyero, having insisted she buy one, chose to decorate it most crudely with one weak strand of tinsel, some scattered ornaments, and a lopsided star topper. Underneath it, a few small presents sat, the wrapping an obvious sign of who gifted whom.

“Ready to go?” Fiyero emerges from the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a bright, red sweater. He’s wearing a Santa hat, the white ball at the end swinging with every step he takes.

Elphaba nods, taking his arm as they walk out the door.


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fiyero is tired of being treated like a HIMBO  
> 

Outside the house, the pair can see and hear the clamor of the house from the driveway. Upbeat pop Christmas music pulsates its way out from the inside, and the smell of savory foods wafts through the air.

Fiyero rings the doorbell and Elphaba sighs. She’s already exhausted having just been outside the house.

“Hey, relax,” He looks down at her expectantly, eyebrows raised like a scolding mother. “This is gonna be fun.”

She sours at the word, considering her definition of fun is a good book.

The door swings open and Anna’s standing there, decked out in an ugly Christmas sweater and a reindeer antler headband. She has festive little lights flickering on the sweater, somehow, and Elphaba squints.

“Ah! You guys made it!” Anna shouts, throwing her arms around the couple and pressing them against her prickly sweater. “Come inside!”

Inside, the party is more noisy and active than the one before, and there are many more people inside the house. People are dancing, singing, and playing all kinds of games. Dozens of bowls of snacks and bottles of alcohol litter the kitchen counter, and a batch of snowman cupcakes sit out invitingly.

“Help yourselves to any snacks, drinks, whatever you want,” Anna gestures vaguely. “If you guys need anything, let me or Kristoff know.”

“Thanks, Anna,” Fiyero nods, and she’s gone within seconds to entertain other guests.

A group of boys in the living room howl at the PlayStation as Fiyero pours himself a drink. Elphaba hovers near him, nervous and annoyed all at once.

“Come on,” He says to her, and heads towards the PlayStation with a huge bowl of chips and a solo cup full of alcohol.

He introduces them to the group of boys like its nothing, slapping hands and bumping chests easily. Elphaba sits distantly on the floor beside him as they all play a sports game. The boys are loud and obnoxious, chugging their beers and punching each other during the games. Fiyero fits in with them like he’s always known them, like they’re college buddies of his.

After half an hour of sitting in boredom, Elphaba shifts her gaze over to a group of three girls lounging by the kitchen island. She groans at the thought of speaking to them, but she really doesn’t want to stick around the boys much longer. She hoists herself up from the carpet, when the boys collectively yell once more.

“Where are you going?” Fiyero catches her arm, confusion written on his face. He’s got about two empty cups toppled beside him, little droplets of beer dribbling onto the carpet.

“I’m just going to try and socialize a little,” The words sound funny and foreign in her mouth. She tucks a strand behind her ear, and Fiyero beams up at her.

“Good!” He nods, squeezing her arm assuringly. “I’m proud of you.” She gives him half of a smile.

When she approaches the group, the girls pay her little mind, instead staring past to look at him.

“Who is that guy?” Says one black haired girl, slender white fingers curled around an apple. “He’s super hot.”

“That’s my boyfriend,” Elphaba says quickly and awkwardly, and all of their eyes fall on her at once. She shifts uncomfortably at the attention.

Another girl with long blonde hair snickers disbelievingly. “Obviously.”

“Y'know, you would get along great with Tiana,” the other blonde offers in a snide tone. “She kissed a frog once. Maybe it was you?”

The burst into laughter all at once, and Elphaba seethes with rage. Just as she plans on slugging all three of them, Fiyero yanks her aside.

“Hey!” She tears her arm from his grasp, boiling over with anger and humiliation. “I was just about to-”

“I know,” He interrupts. He’s just shy of being tipsy, she can tell. “Just ignore them, okay? Let’s just have fun!”

“You’re having all the fun!” Elphaba hisses back, and just as he’s about to retort, the boys call him over.

He grins, grabbing her hand. “Watch this.”

Elphaba stands by, watching unamused as Fiyero chugs two full bottles of alcohol in minutes, with partygoers egging him on. She’s almost too irritated to notice Elsa walk into the room, positioning herself daintily beside Anna on the couch. Somehow, this causes Elphaba to grow impossibly more frustrated with her surroundings.

“Did you see that?” Fiyero snaps her back to reality with a firm shake of her shoulders. He reeks of beer.

“Yes, impressive,” She lies monotonously, and she accidentally makes eye contact with Elsa over his shoulder. Elsa blinks at her, face unreadable and then quickly looks back to Anna. Elphaba sighs.

“Seriously?” Fiyero scoffs, but there’s a stupid grin on his face. One more drink and he'll be drunk out of his mind. “Lighten up, Elph!”

Without warning, Fiyero wriggles off his sweater and starts sprinting toward the backyard. Everyone is cheering as he does a full lap around the pool and dives with a shout. The only person looking on quietly is Elsa, seemingly wary and unimpressed with Fiyero’s behavior.

She can’t tell who she’s more frustrated with, and a thousand questions stir in her mind. _Why can’t Fiyero be more like Elsa? Does he have to be so embarrassing and childish right in front of her?_

Then again, why should Elsa even matter? Elphaba swore to forget about her, didn’t she? So why does Elphaba still care about her?

Elphaba groans, wrapping her arms around herself in embarrassment as Fiyero enters the house dripping wet and shivering. It's only a moment before his gaze flickers up above her head, and then a devilish grin spreads across his face.

“Fiyero,” Her voice is deadly with warning. “Whatever you’re thinking, _dont-!_ ”

By the time she sees the mistletoe above her head it’s too late, and everyone hoots and laughs as Fiyero traps her in his wet, towering grasp. Elphaba catches one small glimpse of Elsa as she squirms against Fiyero’s hold. Her expression is puzzling; Elphaba can’t tell if she’s indifferent, embarrassed, disgusted, or disappointed. Either way, Elphaba has no time to figure it out as Fiyero smushes his wet face against hers and kisses her, his icy wet body uncomfortably pressed against her dry one.

Embarrassment and rage coalesce dangerously hot in her stomach as Elphaba rips her face away from his and wrestles out of his grasp, shoving him away in fury.

“ ** _Stop!_** ” She thunders, and a hush settles over the house like dust. Her entire front is soaked and she’s freezing. She glowers at him, nostrils flaring. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you, Fiyero?! Y-you, you… absolute _idiot_!”

He gapes at her, blue eyes wide with shock. “…I-I just-”

“Shut up!” She snaps, shaking with unbridled anger. “I knew coming here was a mistake!”

She doesn’t wait for any kind of response, storming out the front door and slamming it behind her. A light snow has begun to flutter from the night sky, and Elphaba’s teeth chatter at the dampness of her sweater. Frustrated, Elphaba kicks at the mailbox with a shout, stomping to the end of the driveway where they first arrived.

Just as she expected, Fiyero comes hesitantly down the driveway, red sweater in his hands burning like a fox against the snow. He stands behind her, silent, and it's the quietest he’s been all night.

“I’m sorry,” He finally says. His voice is low, just barely above a whisper.

“We aren’t in college anymore,” She growls, turning to him. “I thought you had learned to behave better! And we don't even know those people!”

“I know I took it too far,” He bunches the scarlet thing up against his bare chest. “But I just wanted you to have fun!”

“You know our ideas of fun are different! You should have just left me alone.”

“Left you alone?” His eyebrows furrow. “You don't want us to spend time together?”

“I don’t need you constantly hovering and touching me for us to spend time together!” She snaps, jabbing a finger in his face. “You’re always around, always trying to be with me! It's embarrassing!”

“It's been four years! I’m not allowed to miss you?” He counters, anger and hurt apparent on his face. He’s nearly as red as his sweater. “I was only trying to help! You looked miserable!”

“Well, you could have helped without acting stupid!”

“I’m not stupid!” Fiyero shouts, voice echoing through the area. Elphaba turns away, knowing she hit a sensitive spot. “I was only trying to help! And you’re right, I could have done a better job, but I had the right intentions in mind.”

The driveway leans down in silence, the house behind them nothing but a blur through the gentle snow.

“I’m _not_ stupid…” He repeats distantly, more like he’s trying to convince himself of the fact.

Elphaba feels regret and anger sear into the back of her mind.

“Let’s just go home,” Elphaba mutters, kicking the snow lamely. Fiyero grunts in response, shoving the warm red sweater over his body and beginning to walk.

When she looks back at the house, she sees Elsa’s ghost of a face staring out the window at them.

 _Why are things so much more complicated ever since you've come around?_ Elphaba thinks.

The journey back home is filled with a punishing silence. A million thoughts race through Elphaba’s head as the subway car rattles and rocks in its dark crib of a tunnel. The apartment is just how they left it, Christmas tree tinsel glittering in the dark, a scarf haphazardly tossed in a rush over the kitchen counter.

Fiyero leans against the counter, his back turned to her. In the dimness of the apartment his sweater’s purple, his wide shoulders pulled up to his ears. Elphaba sighs.

“Listen.... You aren’t stupid,” She murmurs. When there is no response, she goes on. “I’m sorry for calling you that. I didn’t mean it, really.”

“You sounded like you did,” he says, and there’s an edge of hurt to his voice. He turns to face her. “If I’m embarrassing you, just tell me. I didn’t realize how clingy I’ve been. I’m just excited to be with you again.”

Elphaba winces. She hadn’t realized how much he really missed her, how much he cared about her. She feels shame and regret bubble up all at once. Its not quite the same on her end.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did,” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. That’s always been his giveaway for feeling vulnerable. “I’ll back off if that's what you want.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” She says, coming up to squeeze his shoulder.

_I’m sorry that I don’t love you all the way. I’m sorry that I can’t get my mind off of someone else. I’m sorry that things will only get worse between us._

“I don't want you to back off,” She whispers, and means it. “You’re the only reminder of home that I have.” _I love the memories, the feelings that you bring more than I love the real you. I don't want to be alone again._

Elphaba feels hot tears well up in her eyes and she burrows her face into his sweater, scowling. She hates crying in front of others.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He smiles, running his fingers through her hair. “We’re both in the wrong. Let’s just forgive each other and forget about it, alright?”

She nods, and Fiyero wraps his arms around her shoulders. “That’s my girl. It’s been a long night. Let’s get to bed.”

As they prepare for bed, Elphaba rubs fists into her teary eyes, angry with herself. “I’ve ruined your Christmas, haven’t I?”

“What?” Fiyero laughs, incredulous. Elphaba wonders how he can bounce back from a situation so easily, become so positive within seconds. “Christmas doesn’t start until tomorrow. Trust me, I just know it will be the best one yet.”

He kisses her head as they climb into bed together, the room illuminated by a single warm lamp.

“Remember, no beating yourself up.”

“No promises,” She mutters back, because she already knows they won’t last. She knows things can only go downhill from here, and she’ll be the only one to blame.

He leans his body over her to turn off the lamp, and Elphaba squints as they’re engulfed in darkness.

He gently kisses her, warm and soft, and its the only sensation she feels in the blackness.

“Goodnight,” He says, burying himself into the covers.

“Night.”


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crossing paths constantly ; some might call it fate

She wakes to the smell of bacon, all bleary eyed and drooling as the sun paints her face yellow. One wandering green hand along the bed confirms that Fiyero is not beside her. Elphaba feels cold envelop her, and with a grunt she sits up.

Fiyero pops his head into the room. In the blinding brightness of the room he looks more handsome than ever, tousled brown hair gone nearly blonde and eyes bluer than the sky. He gives her a dopey grin, teeth pearly white. He looks almost divine, in an accidental kind of way.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” He opens the door fully and sits beside her on the bed. “Merry Christmas, Elphaba.”

“Merry Christmas,” She smiles a little, wiping the drool from the corners of her mouth. Her nostrils flare and she gazes past him out into the hallway. “What’s that smell?”

“I made you breakfast,” He beams, seemingly proud of himself.

“Oz help us,” she jokes, rolling her eyes. “I’m glad I woke up before you burned the whole complex down.”

“There she is,” Fiyero laughs, pulling her out of bed. “Just when I thought you’d be sweet..”

“I might be if your breakfast is good,” She says, arms coming up to snake around his middle. “So, prepare to be stuck with this grump.”

He shakes his head knowingly. “I think I did pretty good, actually.”

She gives a skeptical hum, unraveling her arms from him in eagerness to see his cooking. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The savory smells hit Elphaba all at once as she enters the room. On the kitchen table sits piles of bacon and eggs, toast, fruit, and orange juice. A bouquet of lillies sits in the center of the tiny table.

“The waffles are almost done,” He says, leaning down to fidget with the crinkled outside of one of his horribly wrapped presents. “I hope you like it.”

“I do like it,” She nods in surprise, chewing a piece of bacon. “None of it’s burnt.”

Fiyero scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Thanks.”

He gathers up all of the presents under the tree and dumps them at her feet beside the table. Once he plates his food, he sits cross-legged on the floor. “Hurry up, slowpoke,” He says to her.

“Alright,” She says with her mouth half full, sitting down to open the first present.

By the end of it all, there’s wrapping paper colorfully scattered across the floor, and the food left is nothing but scraps. Elphaba ends up getting several books, a necklace, a pretty hair clip, and some new reading glasses. Fiyero gets a mug, a new shirt, and a watch.

“These are wonderful, Fiyero,” Elphaba smiles down at her gifts. “I wish I could have gotten you more.”

“Don’t worry about it. I love my gifts.” He goes for a kiss, but Elphaba yawns.

“I think I’ll go back to bed,” She murmurs, standing up on wobbly, tired legs.

Fiyero frowns, and tugs her hand gently. “What? You’re going back to sleep?”

“Yes...?” She responds, blinking, and the two of them stare at one another for a moment in quiet confusion.

“…I don’t really do anything on Christmas,” Elphaba says slowly, like it should be obvious. “I never have.”

“Really?” Fiyero laughs, incredulous. “You never went skiing with your family or anything like that? That’s what Christmas is for, Elph.”

Elphaba tilts her head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Did you forget how vastly different our families are? Nessa had all the fun and got all the presents. I just… served the meals and cleaned the rooms when company came.”

“Oh... right,” He mutters lamely, his gaze flickering anywhere but her face. “Sorry.”

He sometimes forgets that others didn’t grow up living the same lavish life that he had. It's sort of painful, almost, knowing that Elphaba only knew a loveless and tormented childhood. It makes him angry.

She smiles weakly, a hand on his shoulder in an awkward attempt at being comforting. “It's fine.”

She’s about to start heading to the bedroom when he grabs her and and says firmly, “Wait... Don’t go back to bed. We’re going out today. You deserve it.”

She shakes her head ruefully, sliding her hand out from under his. “Fiyero, no…You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” He pleads. There’s a kind of fierce look in his eyes. “I want to give you just one good Christmas. It shouldn't be a time you look back on with regret. Your father-”

Elphaba watches him bite back a rude remark, clenching and unclenching his jaw in thought. An overwhelming rush of admiration washes over her. He really is so smart and so thoughtful, Elphaba hates herself for putting only half her heart into this relationship. She really doesn’t deserve anything from him.

“Okay,” She agrees softly, and her tenderness only lasts a moment before she quips, “I don’t want you thinking too hard anymore. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Hey!” He grins, coming back to himself just like that.

With a small huff of pride, she steps into the bathroom. She unravels her braid, slips out of her clothes and steps into the hot shower. She wonders what it will be like, her first “good” Christmas. The idea is so foreign to her, how people aren’t miserable around the holidays. Her childhood was so warped, its hard for her to fathom anything else.

“I burnt the waffles,” Fiyero announces nonchalantly, a bluster of cold sweeping the room with his entrance.

“Wonderful,” Elphaba deadpans just as she turns the faucet off, covering herself despite the shower curtain between them. “Now, if you don't mind, I need to get dried off and dressed here.”

He rolls his eyes with a small smile. "Relax, I’ve already seen your body.”

“Yes, four years ago,” She says, like he needs to be reminded.

“Well,” he snarks, trying to make sense of his unruly hair in the mirror. “If your body has changed so drastically in these past four years, maybe I should get an update.”

“Hey,” She growls warningly, and he has to stifle another bout of laughter. “I will hex you.”

“You can do that after the movie we’re seeing,” He says. “I forgot what its called, but it’s one of those cheesy Hallmark romantic comedies, with a hint of holiday magic, of course.”

Elphaba groans, “Really? You know I hate those.”

“Yes, I _do_ know,” He smiles, having finally tamed his hair into a semi-presentable fashion. “Which is why we’re going to sit in the back and make fun of it the whole time.”

“Incredible,” She chuckles, a little impressed. “You know me better than I thought, Tiggelar.”

“Oh, trust me,” He says. “You’re going to love Christmas by the end of today.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” She grins. “Now, seriously. Please leave so I can get dressed.”

"So pushy!" He jokes as he leaves.

Once they’ve gotten ready, they step outside into the crisp morning air. Snow has piled itself up over everything overnight, creating an endless sea of foamy white. A chilly, winter’s wind ghosts itself over every bundled body in Brooklyn.

They haven’t walked but five steps from the complex when Fiyero shivers. They’re both wrapped in the warmest clothing they could find, and in her brown, long coat Elphaba feels like a cucumber in a grocery bag.

He shivers again, pulling up the collar of his coat to warm his throat. He’s not used to the cold, especially the brutal New York kind. Elphaba quirks an unimpressed eyebrow, then realizes.

“Your scarf,” She says, a hand coming up to scrub down her face. “I forgot to give you your scarf on the way out.”

“It's not a big deal,” He says, but he smiles down at her through chattering teeth. Elphaba shoots him a look, unconvinced. It probably won’t help a good deal, but she’s trying to be extra grateful and nice to him since their fight.

“Wait here,” She commands. “I’ll be right back. Don’t freeze to death.”

Fiyero sniffles. “I’ll try.”

She revels in the warmth of the complex for the brief moments that she has it. It doesn’t take long for her to grab the scarf hanging limply off the counter and dive back into the elevator. Fiyero always had a bad habit of leaving his things lying around…

The elevator rumbles to a halt on the third floor, and it's suddenly biting cold. Elphaba recognizes that cold, and her eyebrows furrow. She stiffens. _Please, don’t be-_

A _ding!_ and there’s Elsa, waiting. The light from the hallway behind her fuzzes her frame in a gentle white, and she looks heavenly. She’s got an old blue gym bag hoisted over one shoulder, and a tattered black hoodie draped over her down to the waist of her leggings. She looks small as always, arms tucked into the front pouch of her hoodie and shoulders reaching for her ears.

When she meets eyes with Elphaba, she goes rigid with surprise, and it seems like an eternity passes before she waddles inside the elevator.

The silence is nearly painful. The door takes forever to close. Elphaba wrings the scarf in her hands.

_The one time I’m not looking for her, she shows up in the elevator? Seriously? Why do we keep bumping into one another?_

Elsa’s unzipping her gym bag, suddenly, and Elphaba tries to peek. Her eyebrows raise in curiosity as Elsa produces a Santa hat from the bag and stretches it out to her. _Is that…?_

“..I think your boyfriend dropped this at the party last night,” She says, eyes not meeting with Elphaba’s. She looks adorably timid.

Elphaba blinks, unable to look away. She mutters out a dumb, “Ah.. Yes. Thank you.”

Their fingers accidentally brush as Elphaba takes the hat and Elsa looks up at her with those big, royal blue eyes. Pink splashes up across her cheeks and the bridge of her freckled nose and she flinches her hand away. Elphaba frowns. _Just like everyone else, she thinks you're disgusting too._

The elevator dings, and Elsa scuttles out in a pale flash. She always seemed to leave too quickly, a habit that was a tad annoying for Elphaba.

It takes a moment for Elphaba to remember how to breathe. She blinks into nothingness, and when the elevator door starts closing on her she pushes it back, gently and wordlessly. It's like getting the wind knocked out of her, talking to Elsa, seeing her up close. So many emotions flood through her at once: resentment, curiosity, infatuation, embarrassment… Elsa’s like an unshakeable virus, and Elphaba is oh so sweetly infected.

A vibration in her pocket startles her back to life, and she pulls her phone out.

 **Fiyero** : Hey, no rush or anything but please hurry up. I’m dying out here!

And as much as she hates to even fathom it, there’s a small pang of dread in her gut. It's like Fiyero’s gone and ripped her out of that blissful, wonderful moment with a beautiful girl and thrust her back into reality. It's not his fault, though, its all hers, and there’s something terrifying in that. It's Christmas day and Elphaba is pining after someone else. It's dreadful. Its eating her alive. And worst of all, Fiyero has no idea. He’s cluelessly, foolishly in love with her, thinking she deserves the world when she’s really just unsure of what she wants, using him as a distraction. A clearly ineffective, useless distraction.

Elphaba sighs, her grip on the hat and the scarf tightening. Taking one last shaky breath in the warmth of the complex, she steps back into freezing, biting reality.


	9. nine

From that point on, Elphaba tries to dig herself out of the daze that Elsa left her in.

“Here,” She mumbles distantly to Fiyero, tossing him the scarf and the hat.

“Oh right, my hat!” Fiyero exclaims, turning the thing over in his hands. “I didn’t even realize I left it. How’d you find it?”

“One of Anna’s friends gave it to me in the elevator,” Elphaba says, affectionately smoothing over the fingers where Elsa brushed up against her. They’re walking again, towards the theater.

He gives a quick hum of thought, and says, "That was nice of her."

Elphaba nods fondly, recalling the soft ethreal light that framed Elsa when the elevator doors opened. Her cheeks were rosy from cold and she looked so soft, nearly angelic. Or maybe Elphaba was just being dramatic.

They’re only a few blocks away from the theater, when Fiyero waves a hand in her face. She’s completely lost in thought, a distant, far-away look fogged over her face. Fiyero frowns, slowing his walking pace till he's well behind her.

Elphaba is jarred out of her pensive state when she’s hit with a cold, wet thwump to the back of the head. “What the hell-” She whirls around and Fiyero’s standing there grinning, with a second snowball ready to launch.

“Whatever your brooding about, stop!” He says, and he hurls the other snowball. Elphaba opens her mouth to object and gets a mouthful of snow. He laughs.

“You dick,” she says without any malice, and when he raises his arm to launch again, she's gathering up handfuls of snow, clumsy and feverish. Fiyero slips and slides on the slick sidewalk, getting pelted with firm, perfectly crafted snowballs.

Almost all of his poor, hastily shaped ones tumble out of his arms and he skitters to the floor. She grins a little as he slowly falls onto the sidewalk, still scrambling to make more snowballs as Elphaba hits him over and over again.

“Okay! White flag, I'm giving up!,” He yells, as Elphaba smacks him with the last of her snowballs.

“You give up way too easily,” She chuckles, helping him up off the sidewalk. He scoffs, brushing off the white, powdery stuff from his coat.

“Yeah well, you play too rough! Keep this up and we’ll miss our movie,” He jokes, kissing her.

The movie’s just as awful as they expected. Not only that, but the food sucks and the prices are way too high. They poke fun at the film just as planned, but Elphaba still struggles to get her mind off of Elsa. 

Guilt twinges in her gut, deep down. Fiyero has gone out of his way to give her an amazing holiday and this is what she does in return. It's selfish, and its unfair to him.

The rest of the movie is a blur, the flickering screen of colors fuzzing over her vision until the credits roll black. She blinks, her mind half-sunken in thought.

“That was worse than I thought,” Fiyero says, standing, and she wobbles up to a stand too. “In the best way.”

She gives him a weak, toothless smile, humming in mild agreement. Outside the theater it’s snowing, as morning turns to afternoon. Elphaba pulls her coat closer to her body and breathes.

“You okay?” He says, rubbing a hand over her shoulder. There’s concern etched on his face, and it pains her.

Her head bobs awkwardly with a lying kind of nod. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” He counters after a pause, and he steps in front of her to look in her eyes. “What’s wrong? You seem off.”

“Nothing,” she lies, agitation edging around her response. “I said I was fine.”

He runs a hand through his hair, anxious. “Okay... " He replis slowly. "I just want you to be happy. We can go back home if you wa-”

“No, _just-_ -!” She almost yells at him, instead pinching the bridge of her nose. She exhales, slow and shaky, her breath slithering out in wispy white. “...Just forget it. I’m a little tired, that’s all. I didn't sleep too well last night.”

Fiyero nods, awkwardly shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “Oh, okay,” He says softly, as if speaking anymore might set her off.

Elphaba sighs in shame, meeting his eyes. She’s frustrated with herself, and she’s taking out on him. She can’t keep snapping like this, and she can’t keep letting him be okay with it. Maybe getting into a relationship while having an internal battle about my feelings for someone else was a bad idea... Very bad.

Her cellphone rings, and Elphaba digs it out of her pocket. _Anything to get me out of this headspace right now,_ she thinks.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Merry Christmas,” says Anna, and as usual she sounds the complete opposite of Elphaba, like everything is going just great. “I know you stopped coming to the ice skating shows a while back, but tonight Elsa’s starring in a special Christmas show.”

Elphaba doesn’t know wether to be relieved or terrified.

“Kristoff and I are going. Do you and Fiyero wanna come? We can all get dinner before it starts…”

There’s some kind of nervous waver in Anna’s voice, and Elphaba realizes its probably because of the fight at the party last night.

“Ah... Yes, okay,” Elphaba agrees, and she doesn’t really know why. Or she does and won't admit it. “Sure.”

“Cool,” And there’s a pause on the other end. Anna’s voice hushes a little. “Are… Are you guys doing okay?”

Elphaba swallows. She turns, and Fiyero’s leaning against the wall, looking pensive and far away. It's sort of heartbreaking, how discouraged he looks, almost a little hurt, even.

“I-I don’t know,” she says, more to herself. The other girl hums.

“I’m sorry,” Anna says, earnestly. “Maybe things will get better tonight when we get dinner and see the show.”

“I hope so.”

The two couples end up at a little Italian place near the arena, and the sky’s gone a rich deep blue, speckled with gentle flurries of white. Outside people are already crowding up around the arena like ants, cars pulling into any parking spots they can find. The air is buzzing with excitement and holiday cheer.

The four of them talk some, sharing what they recieved for Christmas and what the holiday was like for them. Anna’s spilling over with stories and usual excitement, like she’s trying to say anything that could be possibly be said. Elphaba’s always wondered how she does it, how she talks so much and brightens up the mood in any place. The two of them are so vastly different.

Once dinner’s over they head inside, where multitudes of voices overlap each other in a constant steady murmur. “It’s about to start,” Anna chirps, leading the three of them to their seats. They’ve got good ones, not on the floor, but close enough to be just above the rink.

They all sit, and after a while of idle sitting, Fiyero reaches out to squeeze Elphaba’s hand in his own. He’s got a smile on his face, but he looks tired. It breaks her heart, makes her want to cry and say “I’m sorry,” a million times like the world’s biggest idiot. She only says it once.

“For what?” He whispers, like they didn’t nearly have another argument a few hours ago.

There’s so much she could say, so many things she can’t even begin to explain. Its painful to even think about saying them, it makes her nauseous. She just mutters, “For being so horrible to you. Today, and everyday before that.” _And after._

“It's okay,” He says, but its not, its really not, and she shakes her head ten times to prove it. He laughs softly, the sound achingly nostalgic. His hand comes up to stroke her face. “If something is bothering you, just talk to me about it, I’ll listen. Don’t push me away. And don’t call yourself horrible.”

 _But I am,_ her mind persists, _and you’re too forgiving. You would hate me if only you knew…_

The lights begin to dim and Elphaba’s heart hammers in her chest, so furiously that she presses a hand there as if to cover the sound. It's like the first show all over again, back when she had no idea that this figure skater would drag her down into a miserable, awful, inescapable pit of infatuation and obsession. It's the most twisted, messed up crush Elphaba’s ever had, and it's ruining everything around her. But at the same time, it's bliss.

The crowd roars as the show begins, and a mellow Christmas tune envelops the arena. A group of skaters emerge from offstage dressed in pale, off white outfits, sleek against their bodies. They’re solemn against the glittering ice, their movements slow and deliberately smooth. They’re lost, seeking something, someone to give them joy, purpose.

As the show progresses, Elphaba finds herself relating more and more to the lost swans. They’re off colored, misguided creatures. All they want is to belong, to find something to bring them contentment and fulfillment. In the shadow of Christmas they feel no spirit, no cheer. Winter is a bleak season of despair and dead, decaying things.

Just as the music seems to be at its most despondent tone, Elsa flutters in. Unlike the other swans, her dress is the purest white. It fits against her and shows off the soft curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. She’s framed in a heavenly glow from the spotlight, her pale hair wrapped up into a neat bun with her bangs neatly swept to the side. Silver sequins and jewels glitter on her body, and her legs stretch out from her suit, long and deft. Elphaba draws in a sweeping breath.

She’s fast, graceful, free. Every spin and glide sends a murmur of awe through the crowd. She makes winter look beautiful and full of life, makes Christmas feel worth celebrating. She has a smile so big and bright, it lights up their world, makes things better, entrances them. The other swans, they follow her, they worship her, they crown her their queen. They all dance and she reigns over them, just and fair and everything that is good. The play comes to an end as Elsa jumps and lands into a perfect spin, the tiara on her head glittering with every turn. They wave and everyone bows, and just like that, like hours haven’t passed, its over.

The whole arena roars its thunderous applause, so loud the place seems to shake. Elphaba’s heartrate is way too fast to be considered normal. Her legs wobble and nearly betray her as she slowly stands. She’s forgotten how to clap, how to breathe properly, how to do anything. It's like Elsa’s got control over her mind, her heart, her soul, and now Elphaba can do nothing but give in. Elsa’s like the winter, some weird unrelenting force of nature that consumes everything in its path. It turns things white, it chills, it changes. It destroys. And its so deceptively beautiful, captivating.

Elphaba has all but forgotten where she was until Fiyero shakes her, says, “Wasn’t that something?”

She nods wordlessly, trying to smile but failing miserably. All the noise gathers around her ears and  
muffles together like cotton. Fiyero’s smiling at her, like everything is fine, everything’s okay. It’s not, and when he kisses her she feels hot shame and disgust with herself bubble in her stomach. The beginnings of bile itch at her throat and she pulls away from him, eyes wide.

“What is it?” He says, the words sounding distant and distorted in her ears. Worry etches itself into the lines on his face and Elphaba feels nausea squirming to life.

She runs, grabbing Anna in her descent. When she finds the ladies room, she flings open the first stall door and violently throws up. Her throat burns and it goes on for what seems like forever, until she feels weak and limp and so, so cold. She gives in and a sob rattles its way up through her body.

“Oh god,” Says Anna, rushing to her side. She cleans her friend up, helps her to the sink and leans there, letting Elphaba cry hot tears into her shoulder. Anna rubs soothing circles into her back, her neck, her hair, shushing her and trying her best to comfort.

“…Tell me what’s wrong,” She murmurs gently, when Elphaba’s sobs have reduced to shaky, shuddering breaths. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“I can’t…” Elphaba begins, voice damp and watery. She hates being this vulnerable, this open, this weak.

“Can't what?” Anna says, stroking the green girl’s arm. She sounds a little worried, but Anna’s always been brave, strong. “You can tell me.”

When Elphaba doesn’t respond, Anna takes one green hand in both of her own, warms it. “You can trust me. Elphaba, I promise, I swear.”

Elphaba meets her eyes for a quick moment, nodding. The words burn her tongue. “I can’t pretend keep pretending like... like everything is okay. I.. I have to break up with Fiyero.”

Arms still wrapped around her, Elphaba can feel Anna stiffen just slightly. When Elphaba wriggles out of her touch, Anna’s working her fingers together, eyes scanning the other’s face with confusion. “Okay,” Anna says slowly, trying to understand. “Why?”

Elphaba rubs the meat of her palm into a teary eye and looks away. Embarrassment and shame cause her to blush deep green, and she wants to crawl into a hole and never emerge. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Anna blinks.

Elphaba groans, covering her face with her hands. If it’s this hard to say to Anna, saying it to Fiyero will be impossible. “I don’t-” She sighs, squriming in discomfort and guilt. “I… I think I want to be with someone else.”

Anna blinks again, and then her eyes go wide as she covers her mouth with sweater sleeves too big for her arms. “You… You’re in love with Elsa?”

Elphaba grimaces. “No, I’m not in love with her. I-I just… I can’t stop thinking about her. Even when I’m with Fiyero, I…” Elphaba glances down, furrowing her eyebrows together. “I'm thinking about her.”

Anna sees the guilt written in Elphaba’s expression, how her shoulders hunch up in shame. She nods, leaning closer to listen.

“It’s… It’s awful,” Elphaba says, and her voice quivers. “Ever since I saw her that first time, there was something about her. Then the coffee shop, and the party, we talked a little… I liked her. But everytime we talked, or started to get close, she’d run away, or just ignore me completely. She’d treat me like a stranger. It made me feel like I couldn't approach her. It was frustrating, getting so close to knowing her, only to be shut down again. I thought she probably hated my skin, maybe she was too polite to say it to my face.”

Elphaba sniffles, gripping the sink edge with force.

“I got angry… at her, at myself. I told myself to stop thinking about her, to forget about her. And then, Fiyero called, and…. I-I don’t know. I thought maybe he could distract me, help me take my mind off of her.”

Her vision blurs, and silent tears dribble down her face. She looks up and Anna’s lips are pressed tight, like she’s sorry. Elphaba wipes her face. “He reminds me of home. I’m more attracted to that feeling of being back in Oz than him. That nostalgia. I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am attracted to him, but…” She trails off. “He’s been so good to me. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Elphaba sighs, wrapping her arms around herself and giving the floor a hard stare. “She’s all I think about. She’s destroying me. Destroying us.”

“Hey,” says Anna, uncoiling Elphaba’s arms from her body. The bright blue of her eyes are sincere as ever. Nobody's destroying anything, okay? Just…”

Anna thinks. It takes her a while, because this is no easy situation. But Anna never backs down, she’s always been the fixer, the problem solver, the determined one.

“Tell him the truth,” she finally says, solemmly. “I know it’ll be hard. But it’s the right thing to do. And I’ll be with you every step of the way, Elph. You can always come to me.”

They hug, and when the hot tears spill again, Elphaba buries her face into the fabric of Anna’s soft sweater. She doesn’t know if she could ever face him again, face the world again. But she does know one thing, and its that this obsession named Elsa is not going away anytime soon.


End file.
